History obliterates every picture it takes
by FamRoyalty
Summary: Alfred was just a young colony when he first saw Alexander Hamilton. When he first laid his eyes on him, he knew that he is special. Alexander Hamilton was just another immigrant when he first encounter with the mysterious Alfred F. Jones. Now he knew that history had his eyes on fred watched from afar. He knew that this man would change him, for the better or worse.
1. Start of the end

Chapter One:

Start to an End

 _Alexander Hamilton._

That name rang through his head as he watched a young immigrant hop of a boat from the south seas. He was so young, barely looked old enough to make such reaction from him of all people, but he could feel it. The boy barely a man. Alfred stopped, string into the retreating back, oblivious of who he was and what he is. He wasn't a country just yet, but he could feel it in the air as he took each people are restless, and hungry for justices. Other simply stood back, afraid of the superpower that controlled the seas, and it's colonies.

And this young immigrant was going to be a key player in that. How? He did not know really. Frankly, he didn't care as much as he should have. Silently his eyes followed each of his steps. His eyes screamed honest and good, yet haunted. A thirst to prove himself to the world that he was worth something. A hurricane waiting to be released. He was going to change him, for the better or the worse. Alfred smiled sadly at him, as he disappeared in the busy crowd. He after all had History's eyes on him. That never ended well for them.

He turned in the other direction, away from the immigrant. But he knew this wasn't the last time that he would see him. He had an edge to him, something that would draw people towards the man, "Alexander Hamilton, huh?" He whispered in the cool air, no one noticing the young man with golden wheat hair that disappeared into the darkness of the alley.

* * *

Alexander stopped for the slightest moment as he was following Aaron Burr to some bar. He could have sworn that he heard his name. A small chill went up his spine, but ignored it as he continue to follow Aaron Burr. He didn't want to throw away his shot.

* * *

And he did meet him again, but this time it was face-to-face. He was in England's New York state house. Alfred hated being near the man now days, being in the same room would only spill trouble on the already fragile bond. He remembered how he used to love him being near when he arrived from those long trips, but he grew up. He now was able to see what he was once blind to. The man was always rude to _his_ people. He let those soldiers into their homes, and do nothing but ruin things. Commit crimes against women and children and no one says anything.

They're simply too afraid to be branded, and killed.

He never treats him like a country, or his people. And now he was sitting in this uncomfortable chair, across the man who was sipping tea while his people starved. The tension was nothing new, as it was to the boiling point. Arthur was no fool, he could feel Alfred's cold glare that could come from Hell itself.

He sighed as he put his teacup down, "Alfred we need to talk," Alfred scoffed. Of course he wanted to talk, but Arthur _always_ pushed him aside.

"I know that we haven't seeing eye-to-eye recently," Alfred rolled his eyes- but keeping quiet-, while Arthur's eyebrow shook in anger. "I know you think this is some form of unfair play, but I'm doing all of this for your own good," Alfred now sat up straight, eyes and face showing his rising anger.

"Yeah like I never heard that one before! All you do is bring blood, and death from Europe! Tax us endlessly while spending it like it's limitless! My people are starving and struggling and you do nothing!" Alfred stood up, hoping to gain some ground while Arthur stood up as well. His eyes were blazing, no longer caring to maintain the gentleman fraud, but the cruelest empire that he was.

"I am doing this for you! Those are _my_ people Alfred! They belong to the King! If it wasn't for me you wouldn't make it out in the real world for one day! You can go and act out like the child you are, but this is the real world! You belong here! With me!" Alfred was shocked, but that was quickly covered with his people's anger drumming with righteousness.

"Those are _my_ people, you dog! This isn't some phase, this is the right thing to do for them! They are my friends and family, unlike you!" Arthur-England was taken back by the colony's insult. Taking in the colony from a small age, he had watched him learn and grow from his side. The one he considered family.

"Time will tell! You are worthless and weak against the world, you will end up killing all of your so called _friends and family!_ You belong to me and me only, you ungrateful fool!" Alfred- America was startled by the revelation that he learned. This man wasn't his big brother. The so called 'brother' that he said that he 'loved' him. Seeing the true of the man that had wronged him, America had enough.

"Y-You! You never seen me as an equal because I'm nothing but land to you?!" England, taken back by the outrage in his voice, almost tripped himself to apologize, to say he didn't mean it.

" _I hate you!_ You! You never seen me as your brother! I am a fool for even showing up here!" He tried to walked past him, but Arthur grabbed his arm. He wanted- needed- to apologize, to tell him that yes, _he loved him. He was his little brother-please believe me!_

But to his horror it comes out the opposite, "You belong to me! So don't you dare walk out, or it means war!" Alfred easily freed his arm from the man's grip. He was tired, not something kept him going, something far too deep to go on ignored.

"You bastard! I have been waiting years for this war, and I wouldn't mind kicking your ass out!" He said with as he slammed the door shut with a loud bang. He hated him now, no doubt there. How dare he? He knew if things went really bad that he would go to war, but with England?

He kept walking, not even got far when Arthur opened his window and shouted, "Alfred don't you dare come crawling back to me!" Anger boiling over.

 _"OH YEAH?! WELL YOU AND YOUR DAMN KING CAN GO AND KISS MY ASS, YOU BRITISH FUCK!"_ Mother's attempted to shield their child's ears when the shout reached the city. He wasn't so far from the city, so it must of have been obvious that people heard him, but right now Alfred Kirkland didn't care. Quickly he walked in the shadows as he approached the in the small town in the distance. He could feel the stares and whispers as he passed, buzzing with questions as he could no doubt heard his shouting. Many were outspokenly outraged, stating how one could say that about their own King.

Fools the lot of them.

He entered the local bar as he heard the buzzing of the people chatter. He couldn't help but feel a bit of pride when he heard people quoting him, and making fun of the King. Of what he didn't see was the young immigrant that made his way towards him. Alfred felt a small tap in his shoulder, and he was surprised to see a pair of young eyes on him.

"Hello good sir, I'm Alexander Hamilton."

* * *

 **A?N: This shit is being re-written, but mostly because I went back to re-read some of my old things and I had to cringe at some of my errors. I am not saying this is the best I put out there, but is certainly better than before. But I have hope that this story will continue, like normal again. But anyways I do hope that you enjoyed that, please do leave a review and share.**

 **_FamRoyalty**


	2. A Song to sing

_**Title:** History __obliterates_ _every picture it takes._

 _ **Summary:** Alfred and Hamilton finally meet face-to-face, while Arthur is causing trouble._

 _ **Notes:** Hey, I forgot to mention this in the previous chapter, but this was inspire by the _

_other crossover story. I don't know the most accurate timeline of Hamilton with the revolution,_

 _so sorry if it's a little off right now._ _Anyway please do review telling me what you think so far._

* * *

 _ **Chapter 2**_

Alfred turned to the voice, and saw the young immigrant looking down at him. He is there. Alfred stared a few seconds before turning the smile. "I'm Alfred F. Jones at your services!" He smiled, and he couldn't help but to feel a pull towards the man. He was young, younger than most, but old enough to join a war. Alexander sat beside him, as Alfred made some room for him. He took a sip of his beer before Alexander spoke up again, "You heard the screaming earlier?"

Alfred turned to him, and looked down a second. "That man is nothing but British trash," Alexander turned to him with a look of surprise.

"So not a fan of the British?" Alfred chuckled with him, and Alexander took a sip of his beer as well. And things let to another, and before Alfred he was laughing and drinking his heart out with Hamilton and his band of friends. He quickly learned about John Laurens, Hercules Mulligan, and the fighting Frenchman Lafayette. He laughed as they passed drinks around and stared to sing as well. They too had a pull, like that of Hamilton's, but their's were weaker compared to Hamilton's.

"Hey, I am not throwing my shot! Hey, yo I'm just like my country, I'm young, scrappy and hungry. I'm 'a get a scholarship to King's College, I prob'ly shouldn't brag, but dang, I amaze astonish!" Alfred brought his foot down like the rest of the crew, adding a beat to the song. He never had such a feeling like this one. His chest felt warm, butterflies flying in his stomach, and he felt his mind in the air.

Lafayette stood up as well with Hamilton, and threw his arm around him, "I dream of life without a monarchy, the unrest in France will lead to 'onarchy? 'Onarchy? How you say, how you say, 'anarchy?' When I fight, I make the other side panicky With my- shot!" Lafayette had a bit of a stronger aura than the rest, but not comparing to Hamilton. Alfred couldn't help but let his mind wonder to Francis. Would he really like to be free without a monarchy? He remembered Francis from a really long time ago, but he recently seen him, but from another point of view. And this time he was holding the gun, and Arthur pulled the trigger.

Then Hercules stood with the rest of them, "Yo, I'm a tailor's apprentice And I got y'all knuckleheads in loco parentis. I'm joining the rebellion cuz I now it's my chance to socially advance, instead of sewin' some pants! I'm gonna take a- Shot!" As he stood, so did Laurens. Swing the glass of beer, he couldn't help to laugh as they stumble and sang.

"But we'll never be truly free until those in bondage have the same rights as you and me! You and I. Do or die. Wait till I sally in, On a stallion with the first black battalion. Have another-shot!" Alfred looked up at them in some struck awe, and he didn't noticed the other young man coming from behind.

"Geniuses, lower your voices, you keep out of trouble and you double your choices. I'm with you, but the situation is fraught. If you talk, you gonna get shot!" Alfred turned quickly to face the man addressing them. He too had a weird aura, but unlike Laurens or the rest of the crew he was as strong as Hamilton.

 _Aaron Burr._

His mind provided helpfully, and he smiled as the others started to put him, but he had pity for the man. They were making another round when three British soldiers entered the Cavern. He turned to face them as they made their way through the crowd in his direction. By the looks the rest of the people were throwing, they too hated being interrupted by them.

"Alfred Kirkland?" Alfred hatred the name of the man who made his people suffer, that hated carrying his name as well. He glared at the men, as the crew as well.

"Yes?" The main guy of the three stepped up and he could tell by the uniform he was a Captain, something that pretty high for him to be here of all places. So he immediately knew it was Arthur who had a hand on this. His new-found friends seemed to noticed this as well and they were tense when he stepped closer.

"General Arthur Kirkland commands for your calling immediately, we are here to escort you," Alfred threw a quick look at his friends, and yep, they were confused to say the least.

"Well of course do tell the _General,_ that he can come here if he wishes to talk with me," The three shared a look before the two soldier brought their guns to position. The Captain smiled sickly as the men around them scramble out of harm's way, while he and the crew stood in their grounds.

"I'm sorry to hear that, but I'm afraid that isn't a option as he wishes to see you, and I don't wish to disappoint. I will deliver, and he did say I have to bring to him no matter what, so let's not make a big fuss yes?" He looked at him, if he was some child misbehaving. He was a bit shocked and he didn't want to put the men in danger for him so he stood up and glared at the men.

"Fine, let's talk to the bastard shall we?" He did see the shock in his friend's face when he spilled out the insult by the corner of his eye. The Captain as well as the soldiers had a disgust look as they pulled him to the door. "You'll pay for that," One of the men whispered in his ear, and he send a soft look at his friends as they struggled to keep Hamilton from jumping on the soldiers.

He sighed as he was being pushed through the road. He'll definitely have a revolution now.

* * *

Arthur sighed as he look out of the window. The room is dark, and the wooden walls making it look a bit darker than it was. The candle is lighten up, sat next to the window as he waited for Alfred to return. He send soldiers station near him, to look for him when he didn't came after hours on being in the street alone.

He shook his head. He didn't need to think like, Alfred wasn't a child, so he if wants to be treated like an adult he will be treated like so.


	3. George Washington, sir!

**A/N** _ **:** Hello, it's been some time since I have update this particularly story, but I'm trying to continue it as much as possible. Even try to add some history here and there. I hope that you enjoy._

* * *

 ** _History obliterates every picture it takes_**

* * *

 **Chapter 3: The Wholesome Lie**

* * *

 _December 15th, 1774_

The roads were isolated from people as they slept under the night. Occasionally horses pulling cards that crossed the dirt road. The streets were quiet, there wasn't much sign of life even, as he started to count the hours and even the seconds. How many days have passed? Three or even four. But to him, this was rather weak, he knew much time is passed- it always did with his kind, sometimes even quickler- But yes, he was trapped in the house. Guards stood in the doorway and around the halls, to stop him from being a "child" as Arthur had put it.

But Alfred isn't getting any of that. If England wants money he should get his own and to stop stealth all of _his_ people. Even now, he could see Arthur rolling his eyes and demanding respect. He would laugh in the dark thinking that he would ever respect someone like him. Maybe in his younger years, when he said it as okay to take money. That he still saw Arthur as that. Arthur the loving older brother, who never did any wrong. But unlike him, Alfred grew up to see the reality of the problem.

His younger self would have been horrified if he heard the thoughts of him. Beacuse America is growing and so is he. Like the fire in the stomach of a dragon. He could feel the whispers and the curses that his people throw out at England.

He didn't know when he started to call Arthur England, but with everything that he happened he couldn't ignore it like others did. He can recall the "incident" on March 5, 1770. He remembers dreaming about the blood and screams. Arthur wrote on the letter that it was their fault in the first place, not his nor his people. He felt like strangling the man there, but instead he burned the letter. Since he knew that the fantasy that he wrapped himself in burned.

Now almost five years later, the blood was overflowing and the people wouldn't stand for it. Arthur was coming in a week. Told him in the last letter to prepare for he he some guest over for Christmas. Which was stupid really. His thoughts betrayed his smile. He was the hero of the people. When he stilled remember the gentle smile of his mother, she told him never to trust people like England. Oh how right she was.

Alfred sighed as he looked down at the window of the second story high up. The cup of tea was sitting cold and untouched for hours. He didn't care of Arthur's guest. He and England would talk eaither if he liked it or not.

* * *

 _1775_

Alfred almost screamed in the middle of the road. How dare that git say such words? When he did arrived they spend months arguing, until he punch the man and declared war on England, the world's superpower. Which he knew he would lose, but he wouldn't go down without a fight. Many bowed to hios ruled, where he would enslaved them, and those who oppose him would be all around the other side of the world. So he couldn't get help from them possibly.

The bar brought new smells, it was in Virginia actually where he meet the man. He was still sulking, shy away from the actions of the bar in the corner when he feel another tug. He felt one when he sa the printed words of the paper of the massacre. As well in a far away memory of an fresh-face immigrant full of a bright future. He cleared his head, the drink in his hand was still full, he never liked alcohol.

"Do you mind if I sit?'' Alfred gave a startled glance to the man, he was big with brought shoulders and a warm smile. But his eyes told him that he saw some horrific things. Alfred shrugged, not caring if the actions were offending, and mentioned the seat in front of him. The man sat down and turned away the smug of the ale. The man looked at Alfred if his search of his quest was finally done, and was expecting something.

"May I help you with something," Alfred said with a sigh as he tried to digest the ale that slipped through his throat. The man clear his throat and with a commanding voice, reserved to those in higher up, said, "I want to start a revolution with you." And Alfred coughed up the ale, struggling not to throw it up.

Alfred looked at the man with wide eyes, looking frantically around almost looking for soldiers to bust through the corner to take them away. The fear- the fear that was burned into him- gripping at his chest, the man looked at him with such _pity_. Alfred had concluded that this man was insane, the familiar feeling tugging at his chest. "E-Excuse me? I am very loyal to-"

"Please son, save me from the speech. This land and her people are no longer loyal to the dogs who bring bloodshed here." Alfred felt the tug again, a pitiful flame building in his chest.

"I am here to start something that will outlive me, I know who you are. Arthur- if that's his real name-spoke too much when drunk," Arthur? The connection clicked and Alfred became more wary. But the stranger either choose to ignore it or never saw it.

"He spoke about a boy, who was just like him, how he was become more and more destructive, and how he cared for him the best. So it wasn't much to figure it out, and I know you can feel it but God help me that the people want freedom." Alfred saw the man in a new light, and this time Alfred saw his eyes, they were haunted, but with a glint of grim determination.

Alfred swallowed the fear that was bubbling under his skin and clawing at his throat, "What's your name?" His voice low, a whisper afraid that someone would hear man, suddenly straighten up, if the world itself was looking at him and him alone.

"My name is George Washington, and tell me son, would you be able to stand up for what's right?" And Alfred looked at the man, tugging was now pulling and stretching as the flame burned all his connections of Arthur. And the question whispered in people's minds. And in the bar, tuck away from prying eyes history expanded.

* * *

1777

It wasn't until two years later, from where he meet the General in that crowded bar, that he felt another tug. Like the one that led him to George, but this one was old, familiar. Like meeting an old friend in a long time. It was noon, actually, where he meet the spit-fire man again. Only this time he didn't even look at him when he enter the tent.

Alfred was used to people walking in and out of the General's office. Stacks of papers in his desk, a activity that Alfred hating a little more than Arthur. The man didn't look much older than twenty and already in the General's office. People buzzed around, not paying attention until the General stepped up to Alfred. He looked up, the man didn't change much but his face from the stress that the war would press into the best of them.

"Alfred, this is our new staff member," Alfred put down the feather quill, and looked at the man. Another familiar tug at his naval. He shook his hand, the man had a glint in his eyes as if trying to prove to anyone and anything that he was worth anything. And Alfred was the world that judge him.

"My name is Alexander Hamilton, it's a pleasure working with you Mister Alfred," and they shook hands, because none of them really knew what the future had for them.


End file.
